Dashed Dreams
by shellalana
Summary: August finds himself with a family... or does he?


_A Month of Fanfiction Challenge Day 3: Family_

Temptation tickled the back of August's throat as he spun the empty pack of cigarettes around in his hand. Five years. Five years and still counting since he'd stopped smoking, and it had all been for a good cause as he watched his son dance across the yard in pursuit of some flying insect.

Five years since Sasha had told him she was pregnant. Four and a half since they tied the knot. He'd insisted so that everything could feel right. They could have just bought rings, she'd said, made up words on some doorstep to memorialize the event, but August hadn't wanted it any other way but proper. He'd intended to be in this for the long haul.

Four months later, Nicholas was born, feisty and kicking from day one. Ever since they'd gathered up enough to leave Pandora, he'd grown in leaps and bounds, and did more than his share of keeping August and Sasha exhausted day in and day out. With light brown skin and curly dark brown hair that stuck out every which way, he'd come to develop an avid interest in bugs, robots, and the contents of the oven every Sunday when Sasha would surprise them with some miraculous dessert.

Five years of not smoking was a lot, and even now he still felt the memory of nicotine tickling the back of his throat. But all he'd ever wanted was to move forward with his life, to move up in the world that had never done him any favours.

… what would his mother be thinking now? Chastising him for being soft? Or would she have mellowed out by now and accepted the role of grandmother?

August scoffed at the idea and shoved the empty pack back into his pocket. The thought of Vallory putting away her steel-toe boots and knitting comfortably on a couch with a plate of cookies at her side was too much for him to handle, and he cast it aside to focus on his son.

"Da!" The kid ran up with his hands held out, fingers laced together in a makeshift cage for the creature he'd been chasing.

"Wanna show me what you got there, Nick?" August patted the spot beside him on the step and cupped his hands around the smaller ones to prevent his prize from escaping.

"A chance of rain with forty percent humidity, followed by a short burst of hail and-"

Where was that voice coming from?

"And now a word from our sponsors."

As his gaze met Nick's he found… nothing. Blank white eyes staring back at him, and a plastic grin that shook him to his core. His Halo of thick hair seemed to get bigger, warmer, until it finally burst into flame with such force, it knocked August right to the ground.

"Nick!"

The child's skin started to melt before his very eyes, as if he hadn't been a child at all, but some mockery made from wax. What the fuck was going on?

"Feeling down? Need that pick me up? Stop by the-" The words continued to spill out of his empty mouth, despite no longer having a face, and grew louder with each passing second, until…

August fell to the ground with a start, his heart racing in his throat and his breath short. It was dark all around him, and his alarm radio was blaring over his head. Looking around, he discovered he was back in his room, covered in clothes and magazines and bills… his room above The Purple Skag.

He was back here… because he'd never left.

He rolled onto his back and draped an arm across his forehead, shutting his eyes against the spinning sensations of both the room and his gut. Instead, he focused on the scratchy wood beneath his bare back and how cool it felt against his skin. The bar had been closed for hours now, and that meant no one was coming up to question what the sound was.

No one was coming. There would always be no one.

It had felt so real too, his other life with a girl he knew was no longer within reach, and an impossible child. A life he desired but was never meant for him. A life he was starting to feel he didn't deserve no matter how much he wanted it.

Sasha was leaving tomorrow with the Vault Hunters, to find her sister. Her family.

Temptation tickled the back of August's throat to call her up, ask if she needed help, a gun at her side to watch her back, though he knew well that she could take very good of herself. Still, it didn't hurt to dream, right?

 _… no. No, it fucking did._


End file.
